


The Pale Owl

by FaeriexQueen



Series: The Owl and the Labyrinth [1]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Eventually mutual?, Fae & Fairies, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Build, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22313275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeriexQueen/pseuds/FaeriexQueen
Summary: The years pass, and Jareth watches the babe who escaped his clutches.
Relationships: Jareth/Toby Williams
Series: The Owl and the Labyrinth [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611256
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	The Pale Owl

He hated the girl who had gotten away.  
  
He hated her. He hated the silly human girl who had bested his labyrinth, and who had beaten him at his own game. He hated the silly human girl who had made such a _fool_ of him – who had nearly caused his power to crumble, and his kingdom to fall to ashes.  
  
He hated the girl called Sarah, and he hated her babe.  
  
Jareth’s gloved fist clenched at the mere thought. The babe. The babe that should have been _his_. What a wretched, wailing little thing it had been too; it had been pretty when quiet, but otherwise would have been better off as some ugly, stupid goblin. That had been the fate it deserved.  
  
Alas – _Sarah_ had won. She had won, and she had taken the babe back.  
  
A curse hung in Jareth’s heart, his tongue tasting acid at the mere memory of Sarah. What an utterly cruel girl she had been. Jareth had offered her everything: her dreams, his love, a life away from the very one she had dreaded. Jareth would have given her everything and more, but the selfish brat hadn’t cared. She had only wanted her baby brother back.  
  
What a pity. What a _waste_.  
  
The effects of the loss had been devastating to Jareth’s powers. His castle, which had already been on the edge of decay, felt even more hollow and more lifeless. Even the dumb, bumbling goblins that skittered about like mad children could not compensate for that. Even some of the more fae-like subjects who flittered about in the ghostly halls couldn’t fill the void.  
  
Jareth was no longer remembered in the Aboveground. He was no longer remembered, and his power was weak.  
  
He could feel it slipping through his fingers like sand slipping through broken glass. His life. His magic. _Everything_ …  
  
Gripping his cane, Jareth stood from the throne abruptly. He hurled the cane at a wall causing it to snap in two.  
  
Jareth’s fists remained balled as he seethed. He hated the girl. He hated the girl and that damned babe so _much_ … _  
  
_Jareth left the throne room. He walked briskly, a miasma of darkness looming about him. It was so dreadful and terrifying that even the goblins in their stupidity knew to avoid him; the king was never one to be trifled with, and many of them could not remember a time when he had been so angry.  
  
Jareth, of course, didn’t care. He walked on, trekking into one of the castle tower stairwells. He climbed up until he came to a large, tall window – one with the thick ledge that made it easy for one to sit on.  
  
Jareth threw his leg over the side, as he pulled something out of his vest: a crystal orb, that shimmered iridescently like a glass bubble.  
  
He stared at it. The glass orb fogged at first, before an image began to appear. A house. A room.  
  
The fae were notorious for holding grudges.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Jareth watched Sarah. The girl hadn’t changed extensively in the last two years, with the same dark hair and vibrantly green eyes. She had matured a little, perhaps, but not by much. Sarah still was at times whiny and quarreled with her stepmother often. It was not as frequent as it had been too years ago, but it continued all the same.  
  
The one thing that had changed was her relationship with the babe – _Toby_ , as it was called. Sarah doted on him, and even had started to give her worthless toys and stuffed animals to him to play with. She would read to him and spend time with him – it was certainly a shift from how loathsome she had been of the babe’s presence two years ago.  
  
The babe had also changed. He was a bit bigger, now stumbling around on his legs as he followed his sister about like some silly little puppy. He seemed quite attached to her and would even go as far as to fuss and wail when the girl went off to school. The girl’s stepmother – the babe’s _real_ mother – often appeared annoyed by this, and would leave the babe in his nursery until his tears had dried and he had fallen asleep. A bit of a terrible mother, really.  
  
Had Jareth not detested the babe so much, he might have felt sorry for it.  
  
Jareth watched though. He remained close by, concealed as a pale owl as he perched himself on a branch in the oak tree beside the house. It was a good vantage point, and one that allowed him to see into the nursery in particular. He could see the babe in there most of the time, waddling around as he played with his toys and napped the hours away.  
  
He was such a tiny and helpless thing. Jareth couldn’t understand what value it was that Sarah had seen in the babe.  
  
Jareth continued to observe the babe. He watched with a vengeful eye. Admittedly, Jareth wasn’t sure _what_ he was watching for; perhaps a chance to strike back, and to whisk the child away again. Perhaps he was waiting for a chance to finally turn that bright-eyed babe into some disgusting little goblin, and make his sister suffer for her transgressions.  
  
Something. He wanted _something_.  
  
The Goblin King found himself visiting the house often. A part of him wasn’t certain as to why; even in his bitterness, Jareth knew his powers were limited. No matter how badly he wanted to take back his stolen prize, the Goblin King knew that he could not steal back the babe that had slipped through his fingertips. He could not take him.  
  
But, Jareth did not wish to return to a crumbling kingdom, and here he was. A pale owl who merely watched.  
  
There was one day in particular. The babe had been left in his nursey, sniffling after some kind of fit. He had fallen and scraped his knee, or some other minor trifle. Of course, it had been magnified in the eyes of the tyke, so much that he had wailed for some annoying length of time. Frustrated, the child’s mother had quickly cleaned the scrape as she scolded him. He had then been left alone in the nursery – likely a result of the mother hoping he would fall asleep.  
  
No such thing happened, as Jareth could see. The babe had calmed down after a few long moments though. His cries had lessened, face red and eyes puffy, but the sniffles continued on. Admittedly, Jareth debated on flying off elsewhere. He didn’t know if he cared to keep his eye on the sniveling child much longer that day.  
  
Feathers ruffling, Jareth shifted his talons on the branch. His mismatched eyes flickered to the window one final time.  
  
He stilled.  
  
The babe had stopped crying. Jareth was not entirely sure when, but upon looking at the window he could see the babe there, face still pink and pressed against the glass. The babe’s eyes were a little puffy, and wide; they were such a bright blue that they were almost jolting to look at.  
  
Jareth realized the babe was staring at him.  
  
Jareth remained still in his owl form. The babe did the same, expression drenched in awe as his previous fit was forgotten. No, the look in which the babe now wore was one of a mesmerizing nature; he was completely transfixed on the pale owl, his eyes sparkling with intrigue.  
  
Jareth caught the babe’s sight. The babe did not flinch despite the owl’s piercing stare.  
  
Wings spreading, the owl took off.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
The babe was turning out to be a peculiar child.  
  
Almost a decade had passed since Sarah bested the Goblin King. Almost a decade had passed since the babe had slipped from his grasp. Almost a decade had passed, and Jareth was still fixated on the child who had escaped his clutches – the very child that he was now observing.  
  
Jareth watched as Toby hopped off the yellow, ugly bus that he had to ride every day. A few other children got off on the same stop. They were laughing and pushing each other playfully as their shrieks filled the air, their excitement palpable as they were free from their daily lessons.   
  
Toby laughed along with them, though his voice was a little quieter – a little shy, and subdued. Jareth was never sure why. The child seemed likable enough with the other children gravitating to him warmly. The air about him was almost magnetic; Jareth had seen clearly enough that Toby could have easily been more popular if he wanted to what with the other children often asking him to play and hang out. Toby obliged at times, but not often.  
  
Jareth watched. As he expected, several other children asked Toby if he wanted to play. For a brief second, the child’s blue eyes lit up, too; however, he soon pulled back, and shook his head.   
  
The other children pouted but left well enough alone.   
  
Toby began to walk down a different path after that, passing the old Victorian homes until he reached his own. His backpack looked especially bulky on his small frame and his face remained downcast. His hair, though fair in his early years, had also started to darken; no longer was it a pale blonde, but now something in-between a honeyed shade of brown and chestnut.   
  
Jareth remained perched on the tree branch before he took off, flying ahead of the child to where his home was. Nestling on one of the oak branches, his eyes moved to where he could see Toby just reaching the front porch before he disappeared inside.  
  
A lot had changed in the last decade. Sarah had grown into a young woman, even more lovely than before, while maturing into someone a little more responsible and caring. Jareth still resented her, though; she no longer lived in the same house as Toby, but visited on occasion. At one point, Jareth had followed her, curious as to what fate the girl had fallen to – however, it had been mediocre at best. Sarah did theatre, taught some classes, had a boyfriend…  
  
Yes. Jareth still resented her.  
  
Sarah’s life was a dull one, and it only caused Jareth to remember all that he had promised her. All that he had offered. A true waste. But the _child_ …  
  
A bitter edge tinged the inside of Jareth’s core. He watched the window of what had once been Toby’s nursery, now a bedroom. The child walked inside as he placed his backpack on the ground. He crawled onto his bed, taking what looked to be a sketchpad and pencil as he began to draw.  
  
Jareth eyed the child, as a strange sensation befell him. He had hated the babe once it had escaped. He had hated the babe for a long time, and he had wanted to lash out against it: to curse it, and turn it into something horrid. He had wanted to take out his anger and his hatred on the helpless thing.   
  
Now, Jareth was wavering.  
  
Jareth didn’t know why. He didn’t care for the child by any means. However, the child _was_ intriguing; he kept to himself, often reading many of the same fairy stories that his sister adored and would even draw illustrations to accompany them. Beasts, fae, merfolk…  
  
Goblins.  
  
Jareth had seen some of those drawings. Often in the evenings he would linger near Toby’s window, looking at some of the scattered sketches on the ground. They were incredibly detailed given how young the child still was, but it was apparent enough: Toby still had some memory of his time in the Underground.   
  
It was somewhat astounding. Jareth would have thought that the child would have forgotten. Sarah seemed to have done so easily enough; there were no signs or hints of her having any recollection of what had happened, with her silly new maturity likely having pushed her to write off the events as some dream. The child, though, was different; no, he would draw goblins, and twisting paths, and an intricate maze…  
  
The child remembered.  
  
It was a strange revelation for Jareth – one that also made him question his previous animosity toward the child. Was the child still of value after all? The fae were near forgotten by the humans, pushed into extinction as their realm threatened to crumble into the dust of forgotten dreams and frayed tales. They had been pushed into a powerless existence, with nothing but a few strands of beliefs to keep them alive.  
  
Jareth pondered this. He did so until a slight _click_ could be heard.  
  
Jareth was careful not to move. His attention flew back to the window.  
  
Toby was there. He had slid open the window panel, though very slowly. A somewhat timid look was on his face as his large blue eyes lingered on the pale owl, his motions having stilled.   
  
Jareth watched. Toby had only slid the panel up half-way, and he looked as though he were afraid that Jareth may move. Had Jareth been in his human form, he would have smirked at Toby’s behavior. What a silly child.  
  
A few moments passed, and Toby seemed to muster up some bravery. He slid up the window a bit more, and took a step back.  
  
When the owl did not move, the child went back to the bed. He came back only seconds later with his sketchbook and pencil. Blue eyes flickering to the owl once more, Toby sat down on the bench on the inside of the window as he began to draw.  
  
Jareth watched somewhat bemusedly. He was vain enough that he didn’t mind the child selecting him as a subject to sketch; if anything, it only proved that the child had good taste. He certainly wouldn’t mind indulging the child in this sense.  
  
Toby seemed to lose all sense of his surroundings as he worked. A look of concentration spilled over his features, his small brow furrowing as he periodically glanced at the owl in an attempt to perfectly capture its beauty. Unfortunately, the child was not as seasoned in his skill as he would have liked; he would occasionally stop and erase something, only to start over.  
  
Jareth didn’t mind though. He was in no rush.  
  
After about an hour or so, Toby was still working. He glanced back at Jareth one more time before his large eyes flickered back to his sketchbook.  
  
“Toby, dinner is ready!”  
  
Toby jumped a bit. He lost his grip on the pencil, with it dropping outside of the window. He whirled back around, having scrambled to catch it – but in his clumsiness, his sketchbook also fell as it toppled from the second story window and into the bushes.  
  
Immediately, the child’s expression turned crestfallen. He looked as though he were close to tears, but he was clearly trying to fight it as he heard his mother call for him again.  
  
“ _Toby_!”  
  
Toby winced, as a slightly torn look flickered across his expression. “I-I’m coming!” he stammered, as he wiped his face and hurried out of the room.  
  
Jareth watched as the child disappeared. He waited a moment to see if perhaps the child would run outside to get his belongings, but faintly he could hear the child being scolded from inside.  
  
A hint of annoyance gleamed in Jareth’s eyes. The child never retrieved his sketchbook or pencil.  
  
An hour passed, and Toby eventually returned to his room. He still looked a bit dejected; he had tried to tell his parents about the fallen sketchbook, but his mother had only been frustrated (“Why do we get you these things only to be so careless with them?” she had asked). The words had caused Toby to feel lousy; he hadn’t meant to be careless.  
  
Toby rubbed his eyes, tired as he shut his bedroom door behind him. He looked forward and blinked once.  
  
His eyes widened.  
  
On the bed, there was his sketchbook. It was there in perfect condition, with the pencil as well.  
  
Hurriedly, Toby ran over to it. He opened the sketchbook as a fearful excitement clutched at his heart, with his small fingers flipping to his most recent sketch of the owl.  
  
It was there, just as when he had last seen it.  
  
Amazed, Toby looked at the window. It was still open, and he ran to it.  
  
When he did, the pale owl was long gone.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Six more years had passed, and the Goblin King still watched the child. Except, he wasn’t so much a child anymore – _boy_ would have been the better term. Toby was still very young, having only reached his sixteenth year. He was already beginning to mature a bit more in physique though, with his baby fat near gone, and his features slim and handsome. Yes, Toby had been a pretty babe and a pretty child, but he was even prettier as a boy for certain.  
  
Truthfully, a small part of Jareth was relieved that he had not turned the boy into a ugly goblin. What a waste of a beautiful child that would have been.  
  
It wasn’t just the boy’s appearance that was entrancing though. No, Toby also had an air about him; there was just something so sweetly _alluring_ about Toby. He was quiet and thoughtful, and not like his sister who had had such a penchant for being overdramatic and whiny. They shared some similarities, though: a dreamy look in the eye, a fondness for the fantastical…  
  
Jareth had not been able to stop watching the boy. The very boy who had been the babe that he had loathed and detested for escaping his grasp. How strange it was that the Goblin King now found the boy more than tolerable – endearing, even. He wasn’t sure how many hours he spent watching Toby, but Jareth knew the amount was countless.  
  
Toby was, of course, oblivious to being eyed so fervently. He went about his days, going to school in the mornings and returning home in the afternoons. As Jareth had suspected, the boy had many opportunities to have friends and be popular; other youths gravitated toward him, with many girls even going as far as to ask him out. Much of the time, Jareth found that Toby seemed to flounder under such attention, with his cheeks turning rosy and an apologetic look flashing in his eyes before he turned them down.  
  
Peculiar – Jareth would have thought any mortal would have loved such attention, but perhaps the boy was simply too shy.  
  
Toby was still close with his sister, though. Jareth could see that much. While Sarah had grown up and was into her early thirties, she periodically came by to visit the boy, taking him out and doing activities together. They would sometimes go to see performances that Sarah’s friends were in, or maybe some kind of art gallery. Toby clearly had a passion for the arts, and rarely was seen without his sketchbook and pencils.  
  
Their time together was not as frequent as it once had been. The boyfriend that Sarah had had for several years was now her husband, and a recent reveal of a pregnancy had also posed a new distraction.  
  
As a result, Toby became less of a priority as well.  
  
The boy didn’t seem too bothered at first. He continued with his art, sketching away at the park or in his bedroom. However, Jareth would occasionally catch a glimmer of something in his eyes: a flicker of loneliness, and a wistful tinge of longing.  
  
Alone. The boy felt alone, and he was unhappy.  
  
Jareth didn’t quite understand. Toby might have been losing his sister, but could he not gain the attention of other mortals? He was a lovely enough creature, and surely could have found more companions at school. He had plenty of opportunities.  
  
It was a few weeks later when Jareth discovered the reason for the boy’s unhappiness.  
  
It was one of the days where Jareth was eying the boy throughout his school day. He was still in the Underground, lounging about on his throne as he held a shimmering crystal orb in his hand. From it, he could watch Toby with ease as he peeked into every crook and cranny of the boy’s life.  
  
Currently, Toby was at school. He was seated at his desk, his weight leaning into his elbows as he attempted to take notes from the teacher. Usually, Toby was diligent; he seemed to be a good student, if not occasionally a bit daydreamy.  
  
On this particular day, Toby was more of the latter. He occasionally glanced toward the window, eyes a bit pensive and thoughtful, with his hand bringing the pencil to his lip as he chewed on it anxiously.  
  
Jareth could feel his attention sharpen. Whatever was the boy so nervous about?  
  
The bell rang, with Toby swiftly grabbing his things and hurrying off. He moved into the hallway.  
  
The scene was a jumbled one, with other youths rushing down the hall and slamming those annoying metal contraptions they referred to as _lockers_. It was a jarring sound, but even in his annoyance Jareth couldn’t be dissuaded from watching the boy – especially given what happened next.  
  
Toby lingered by the lockers. He had gone off toward the end of the hall where it was a little less crowded, his eyes flickering around until they landed on someone: another boy, possibly a year or two older, with sandy colored hair that was cut choppily and dark brown eyes.  
  
Jareth immediately felt a sneer tug at his mouth. He had seen Toby interact with this lad before. It was only ever to work on school assignments, but the boy was always so eager to see the blonde, with his studded belts and all-black attire. Jareth hated him.  
  
The two of them talked for a few moments, and Jareth was almost inclined to toss the crystal across the room. He even came close to doing so – just until something peculiar happened.  
  
It was a small thing – so much that Jareth almost missed it. But sure enough, the sweet boy he had grown so fond of reached out a hand tentatively as he asked his peer a question.  
  
In a flash, the blonde boy stepped back, almost as though he had been repulsed by something. His face twisted into something in-between alarm and disgust, as he spoke something horrid to Toby in return.  
  
Toby immediately backed off. The color had drained from his face, his blue eyes wide as a look of pure mortification took hold of his expression. He didn’t even appear to know how to speak, as he could only stare helplessly as the other boy said a few more things, words sharp and cruel.  
  
Toby only stayed a moment longer before he turned and bolted off.  
  
A few goblins shrieked in laughter, causing Jareth’s focus to break. Eyes flashing heatedly, Jareth gripped the armrests of the throne as he snarled at the goblins. “Quiet!”  
  
The goblins yelped as they hurried off in fear.  
  
Once they were gone, Jareth got up from his throne. He stalked off, grabbing his cloak as he approached the window.  
  
Turning once more into a pale owl, he flew off.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
When Jareth found the boy, he had already rushed home.  
  
He could see Toby through the window: curled up on his bed, and body trembling. The window had been cracked open so Jareth could hear the boy’s small, muffled sobs. He was clearly trying not to make too much noise, likely so that his parents wouldn’t hear – but the boy was failing. He was absolutely wretched, and _broken_ …  
  
Jareth had not seen the boy this miserable before.  
  
It hadn’t taken much for Jareth to piece together what had happened. The boy had evidently liked his blonde peer and dared to confess his feelings. Such an action had backfired though, with Toby being slapped with disgust and rejection immediately after.  
  
Now, Jareth understood. He had not realized why the boy had refused the few girls who had asked him out, but now it was clear: he preferred the flesh of the same sex and he was ashamed of it.  
  
It was a pity. Humans were still evidently governed by close-minded nonsense. They limited themselves to such bland norms, ignoring their dreams and their passions. It was a sharp reminder of why Jareth loathed humans so much; they turned their back on the imagination, and the chain reaction was detrimental. They became closed off, with their fairy stories crumbling to dust, their belief that had once sustained the Underground weakening in turn.   
  
What fools humans were. What terrible, horrible _fools_ -  
  
There was a muffled sniffle, and Jareth’s attention returned to Toby. He had quieted a bit, with his sobs having started to slow. The boy was still on his side, his face half-buried into the pillow. His blue eyes were puffy, and his face was blotchy; it was a shame to see agony mar such a pretty face, but Jareth couldn’t fault the boy for his sensitivities entirely. The mortal who had rejected him had been stupid and cruel – a true moron really.  
  
 _‘He didn’t deserve you,’_ Jareth wanted to say. _‘He never deserved_ you. _’_  
  
Toby was so much better than he realized. He was so much more valuable and so much more precious. Why couldn’t Toby see it? If his peers didn’t accept him, then curse them – they were all idiots, and this sweet boy deserved to be appreciated. He deserved to be showered in adoration and _love_ …  
  
Jareth would have adored the boy. He would have even gone as far to love him, if he were able.  
  
Toby moved as he sat up in bed. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie before he reached over to his backpack beside the bed. Shuffling his items around, he pulled out his sketchbook and pencil as he began to draw.  
  
Jareth watched from the oak tree. The boy’s eyes were still glassy, and a few times he looked as though he were once more on the verge of tears. However, Toby tried to fight them back as he worked to distract himself, with his hand moving swiftly as an elaborate landscape began to fill the page. Rolling hills, twisting paths, a castle far in the distance that was surrounded by high walls…  
  
The Underground.  
  
Toby paused to look at his work. There was one more a wistful look in his eyes, as though he were desperately wishing for some kind of escape, his hands gripping at the sketchbook.  
  
Something snapped in the boy’s eyes, and in an abrupt motion he hurled his sketchbook at the bookcase in his room.  
  
The bookcase tremored from the impact, with one of the books falling. They were old, flimsy editions; they had belonged to his sister, with the boy having inherited the majority of them when she moved out.   
  
Toby flinched at his actions. He was clearly embarrassed by his own outburst and got up quickly to recover the book: a small, thin red one that bore a striking familiarity to Jareth’s eyes.  
  
 _The Labyrinth._  
  
Toby paused. He flipped the book open, glancing through the script formatting. A strange look appeared in his eyes as he seemed to register some small, subconscious thought.  
  
Taking the book, the boy clasped it to his chest as he turned around, his eyes landing on the window.  
  
Toby stilled as soon as he saw the owl.  
  
Jareth remained motionless. Their gazes remained lock for a few long seconds, with multicolored eyes boring into bright cerulean ones. Yes, those blue eyes were still a bit red-rimmed, but they were so terribly lovely and as Jareth looked…  
  
Something flashed in the boy’s eyes: _recognition._  
  
Toby hurried over to the window. He made an attempt to slide the glass panel upward, but already Jareth had taken flight.  
  
Toby could only watch as the owl disappeared from sight.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Toby was beginning to remember more.  
  
Jareth was certain of it. Ever since Toby had found the little red playbook and spied Jareth outside of his window, Jareth had taken notice of the boy’s behavior. He started to read through that playbook more, carrying it with him even to school. His drawings became more detailed with sprawling landscapes of mazes and never-ending stairs, and ugly little goblin faces that were sprinkled throughout. Toby had even taken to leaving his window open more, with his eyes periodically flickering to it in the evenings as though he were waiting for something – an owl.  
  
Yes. The boy was remembering – Jareth was certain of it.  
  
It was almost too good to be true. Jareth could practically feel Toby’s belief beginning to fester. When was the last time any mortal had even believed in the Underground? In the fae that roamed on the underside of the earth, harboring ancient secrets and dangers untold?  
  
No one. No one in many long years.  
  
Jareth needed to be careful. The boy had started to develop an itch, with a thirst brewing for the Underground. Truthfully, there had always been a thirst there; a longing to go elsewhere, and to be whisked off to some magical place. It was clear enough given that the boy was always drawing fantasy landscapes or reading stories of different realms and adventures – he wanted to leave, and he wanted to leave to the Underground.  
  
The realization was one that caused Jareth to hope – a dangerous sensation that he had not allowed himself for some time. But, could this have been why the boy slipped from his clutches all those years ago? Could it have been kismet that the boy was spared the fate of a goblin, only to remember later on and be even more precious? It went beyond coincidences, and Jareth knew it must have meant something. He knew that the boy must have belonged in the Underground.  
  
Jareth simply needed to bring him there.  
  
He could do no such thing easily. The Goblin King’s powers were not omnipotent; he could not simply _take_ the boy, no matter how dearly he wanted to. No, Jareth had to wait; he had to wait until a wish was made. Until he was beckoned.  
  
The boy needed to say the words. He needed to say _those words_ before Jareth could lift a finger.  
  
At first, Jareth was patient. He watched as Toby continued to read through _The Labyrinth_ again and again, his sketches increasing countlessly. He watched as Toby would stay up late, skipping homework when he could and tearing through the pages in an attempt to find some clue.  
  
It was when Toby’s belief became strong enough that Jareth could finally do something.  
  
While he could not steal the boy away, the fact remained that the boy had opened himself up to Jareth. He had opened himself up to believing – something that in itself was so monumental that Jareth could practically feel the gravity of its significance. Not many humans truly believed anymore, and now that the boy had…Jareth could begin to draw him in.  
  
Jareth watched. He watched from one of his studies in his castle as he observed the boy through one of his crystal balls. Toby was in bed while once more flipping through the playbook. As always, there was a look of concentration in his eyes as he sought for something he did not know, before his attention flickered to the cracked window. When he saw nothing there, a look of disappointment flickered in his eyes.  
  
Sighing, Toby closed the book. He placed it on the nightstand before he turned off the lamp, the bedroom turning dark as he nestled into the covers.  
  
It didn’t take long for Toby to drift off into slumber. His eyes closed, his breaths evened – the boy succumbed quickly, with his dreams soon taking hold.  
  
Jareth took his chance.  
  
While the fae were limited in their powers, there were certain exceptions for what they could manipulate. Dreams were one such thing, though it was only when a human was making themselves entirely vulnerable by opening themselves to believing. With the boy having finally done so, Jareth slipped into his dreams quietly – he slipped in like a serpent slithering about, dipping into the boy’s psyche as he began to manipulate it. Silver walls, glass floors, shimmering chandeliers…  
  
It was a dreamy place. The ballroom was filled with men and women completely dazzled in the most mesmerizing finery. The men wore intricately embroidered frocks with the women adorned in satin gowns of jewels and gems; they danced about, their faces concealed with strange masks as they laughed and shrieked in merriment. Gracefully, they danced, twirling one another as their motions carried them all throughout the ballroom.  
  
Jareth was there. He too was dressed up in midnight blue and a black, horned mask, his eyes skimming through the crowd.  
  
He saw the boy immediately.  
  
Toby was there, near the edge of the ballroom like a dazed wallflower. He had a lost look in his eyes as though he didn’t have the slightest idea of what to do. There was no mask on his face, leaving him bare and easy to read. However, Toby too was dressed in finery: a frock woven in mother of pearl and white gold, with simple detailing that was delicate and demure.  
  
He looked stunning.  
  
Several dancers crossed in front of Jareth, but he was already making his way through the crowd. He took his time, watching the boy’s every move; Toby never strayed far, and seemed to gravitate toward the wall. Even in his dreams, he was a shy one.  
  
No matter – Jareth would be gentle.  
  
As Jareth approached the boy, he could see that Toby had not yet noticed him. He was still too entranced by his surroundings, his expression wide-eyed and awestruck.  
  
Jareth smirked. The boy was so easily enchanted already.  
  
Toby turned. He took notice of Jareth and stilled, his breath catching in his throat.  
  
Jareth said nothing. Still masked, he held out his hand to Toby as his multicolored eyes met the boy’s.  
  
Toby hesitated. He looked a bit uncertain and even a bit intimidated. However, a curiosity brimmed within his eyes as he looked up at Jareth.  
  
Tentatively, the boy took the Goblin King’s hand.  
  
Jareth’s smirk remained. He took hold of Toby, pulling him toward the center of the ballroom as he placed a had around the boy’s narrow waist.  
  
They danced, with Jareth leading. Toby did well to keep up, his gaze occasionally flickering downward, but otherwise Jareth was pleased. He was finally so close to the boy, and could finally look at that beautiful face…  
  
Toby looked up, and their eyes locked. Jareth’s gaze flickered to the boy’s lips.  
  
 _‘No,’_ he reminded himself. No, Jareth would wait. He wanted to take the boy, but this was only a dream. This was not as though they were truly there in the flesh. Jareth wanted to take the boy, but he would wait – he would wait until he had the boy in his clutches.  
  
Until then, the dreams would have to do.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
A few weeks passed, and Toby had not spoken the words.  
  
Jareth was growing impatient. He had hoped that by now that the boy would have at least come closer to learning what needed to be said, but so far it had proven fruitless. Night after night Jareth had done what he could, occasionally slipping back into the boy’s dreams. Romancing him, seducing him, drawing him in…Jareth wanted so terribly to tell the boy the words, but he could do no such thing. No, the boy had to learn them himself.  
  
It was a very trying process.  
  
Jareth was not alone in his frustrations. In his observations, he saw that Toby too was becoming antsy. He had started to withdraw more from his peers, with the strain of his previous rejection having marred his reputation. Toby had already been quiet, but now he was practically a loner; he didn’t talk much to the other students anymore and was often the subject of whispered conversations and hushed remarks. A black sheep.  
  
Toby tried to ignore it, and only buried himself deeper into his fantasies.  
  
His parents had also taken an annoying interest in things. Evidently, Toby had become so consumed with his playbook and sketches that his studies were beginning to become impacted – something that was deemed alarming considering he had been a good student before.  
  
Both of the boy’s parents were concerned, with the mother especially becoming a nuisance. She nagged Toby, pressing him with countless questions in an attempt to learn what was bothering the boy. This only caused the situation to become more strenuous, with Toby further pulling away and locking himself in his room whenever he got the chance.  
  
The boy just wanted to escape. He wanted to go to the Underground, and see the Goblin King that haunted his dreams so relentlessly. He wanted to _leave_.  
  
But the boy didn’t know the words. He didn’t know how to leave.  
  
Over time, this discouraged Toby. He became emotional, sometimes reading through the lines in the playbook so repetitively that he looked close to tears. But the boy just _didn’t know_. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say or do, and he was so _frustrated_.  
  
He was frustrated, and also worried.  
  
Jareth felt it. He felt the wretched needle of doubt that pricked at the boy’s heart – that stab of fear that perhaps the boy was simply victim to some desperate over-imagination. And as soon as Jareth felt it, he wanted to scream.  
  
No. No, no, _no_ – Toby was finally believing, and he was so close to finding out. He was so close, if he could just say those damned _words_ …  
  
 _‘Don’t be a fool,’_ Jareth wanted to sneer. _‘You’re clever – you_ know _what they are…’_  
  
Toby was left to flounder. The days were agonizing, and the nights even more so. With the boy’s belief wavering, it was growing difficult for Jareth to slip back into his dreams. Some nights, it wasn’t even possible.  
  
On nights where Jareth could not do such a thing, the boy would often awaken abruptly. His expression would be distraught, with a look of pain in his eyes as an unspoken question lingered on his tongue: _‘Where are you?’_  
  
It was no use. Toby was not grasping what needed to be said, and Jareth’s hands were tied. It was devastating. After so many years, this sweet boy had come so close. He had come so close, and Jareth was _certain_ that he belonged in the Underground.  
  
Perhaps, Jareth had been wrong. Perhaps he had been wrong about the boy, as he had with his sister.  
  
Despite this, Jareth could not bring himself to forsake the boy. He could not bring himself to stop watching him.  
  
Jareth flapped his wings. He had not taken his owl form in some time, and had ventured out on this particular day, perching himself in the large oak tree beside Toby’s house.  
  
No more than five minutes had passed before Jareth eventually caught sight of Toby hurrying down the sidewalk.  
  
Jareth watched. He wanted to scowl as he immediately noticed something off; the boy was gripping the straps of his backpack tightly, and his face was pink. There was a misty look in his eyes as well, with his expression twisted into one of hurt.  
  
Jareth didn’t understand. He had observed Toby throughout school, and only ceased when he decided to fly out before the boy got home. Had something happened during the time he wasn’t watching?  
  
Toby hurried up the steps to the front door. He rushed inside.  
  
Still in the oak tree, Jareth listened. He could hear some muffled voices – the boy’s mother asking what had happened. Although the conversation was diluted, Jareth could hear Toby snap, his voice distraught. An ugly chain reaction occurred, with more yelling from the mother and a few doors slamming.  
  
Jareth waited. Not a second had passed before he saw Toby rush into his room while slamming the door shut.  
  
The boy was in dismay. He tossed his backpack to the ground before he slunk down to the ground, the little red playbook falling out. Toby pressed his back against the bed as he brought his knees up to his chest; protectively, he wrapped his arms around them. Tears were streaming down his face, his expression crumpled up as he slowly began to break apart.  
  
Again, Jareth could feel a pinch of doubt. He could feel the boy’s doubt beginning to fester. _‘No.’_  
  
Toby didn’t move. He remained still, curled up defensively as he struggled to calm himself. His shoulders shuddered with his breaths uneven and eyes rimmed in red.  
  
“I hate this,” Toby sobbed quietly. “I _hate_ this…”  
  
Jareth did nothing. He only listened as the boy continued to fall to pieces, his powers worthless and meager.  
  
If only. If only the boy _knew_ …  
  
“I wish they’d take me away…”  
  
Jareth stilled. His eyes flashed to the window, where he could see the boy – still red-faced and crying – as he was looking back at that little red playbook.  
  
“I wish the goblins would take me away,” Toby said, words broken between sobs. “Right _now_.”  
  
 _There_.  
  
Just like that, Jareth felt the words seep into his bones. They seeped deep into the marrow and into his core, breathing a power back into Jareth that he had not experienced in years.  
  
There was a gust of wind – one that spilled into the boy’s bedroom. The curtains whipped and Toby flinched. He looked about with wide eyes from the unexpected gust. It was so powerful that several books and trinkets were knocked over in his bedroom, causing him to cover himself with his arms in defense.  
  
Lips upturning, Jared eyed the boy. He would be afraid at first, but he would adjust. Now that he had said the words…  
  
The fae may have been notorious for holding grudges, but they were even more notorious for getting what they wanted.  
  
The gust of wind continued, and Toby kept his arms wrapped around himself. He shut his eyes tightly.  
  
In the blink of an eye, Toby was no longer in his bedroom. 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written anything Labyrinth before, but recently delved into some Jareth/Toby content from long ago and forgot how absolutely obsessed I am with these two.
> 
> Honestly, I had intended for this to be a short drabble. Obviously that didn’t happen and it got away from me. With that being said, as of now this is a stand-alone piece. I don’t plan to continue it, though I might write another short bit of Jareth watching Toby (*ahem* probably doing something risqué - I wanted to write it in here, but alas it did not work with the flow).
> 
> Anyways. This was a slightly different style than I normally write, so I’m not quite sure how it turned out. I did want it to be mostly from Jareth’s perspective though, especially with how intriguing a character he is. He’s so alluring yet predatory? I get shivers. That being said, I didn’t want to be too explicit with the details of Toby’s life and what’s been agonizing him so much. I’m fairly certain people can read between the lines and tell, but maybe not? >.>
> 
> On that note, I am considering writing a longer slowburn for these two. I’m writing some other pieces right now, but if I did it would likely be in this same universe, albeit from Toby’s perspective. There’s an unfinished fic by an author I’d like to adopt and work on that’s Jareth x Toby, but since they don’t seem to be active I’m beginning to work on my own ideas with this one. (I have the itch for these two, and it’s killing me!)
> 
> Again, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to work on said fic, though it’s on my radar (if at least a few shorter ones). I honestly don’t know how active this fandom is either, or if anyone would be interested in reading? (There’s such little content for Toby and Jareth, I CRI). Needless to say, I’d really love feedback on this current piece and if anyone would be interested in a lengthier multichapter fic from Toby’s perspective. (Honestly I’m thirsty to find people who are into Labyrinth and this pairing in particular - help. XD)
> 
> Please do leave any fic related comments on AO3, though also feel free to reach out if you want to chat about Labyrinth things! I’m fairly active on Tumblr, Twitter, and Discord (same username) and would love to hear from people. ;3


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